Up Above Us
by LoVejustIs
Summary: The words drifted around my head but I was refusing to listen. It wasn't that I didn't agree with every single word the priest spoke, because I did. It was because I didn't want to admit to myself that he was actually gone. ONE-SHOT. LG


A/N: This is a short one-shot that came to me last night when I was half asleep, so I decided to write it quickly, and get it posted. Let me know what you think of it.

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Up Above Us

I stared ahead, tears running down my face and choking up my breathing, but I didn't acknowledge the tears, nor did I even attempt to wipe them away. More would just fall, making me repeat the same gesture over, and over. It would be a waste of my time, and so, I let the tears fall.

The tears were silent, the heart-wrenching sobs were over now, I'd lived through those for the last few days. Now, my mind was just a blank, as I stared ahead. The priest was speaking about him, telling everyone how he was a wonderful person. Letting everyone know that he had had a loving family, loving friends, and a loving girlfriend. The words drifted around my head but I was refusing to listen. It wasn't that I didn't agree with every single word the priest spoke, because I did. It was because I didn't want to admit to myself that he was actually gone.

I had never imagined it happening. This was the first funeral I had ever attended, the first time I had lost someone so close to me. I guess I never really realized how much he meant to me. I had never taken the time, nor had I ever really wanted to, to imagine what my life would be like without him. But now, I was living it.

It was like dreaming a horrible nightmare. People's faces slowly swirled around inside of you, they mixed in with the sorrowful words that were being spoken.

Nobody had taken the news quite as hard as I had. I was weird, actually. There were parents sitting in this very room that had just lost their only son, but I cried more than they did. And I knew why.

He had died for me.

He had died saving my life.

To engrossed in carrying on my conversation with him, as I crossed the road, I hadn't looked both ways. They taught us way back in kindergarten, 'always look both ways before crossing the street,' and nobody ever really took into consideration that something bad might happen if, for the first time in your life, you didn't.

He had been smarter than me, nodding along to all my rants and raves, but still looked both ways. He had called out my name, urging me to stop. But by the time I had realized what was happening, it was to late. I froze, like a deer caught in headlights.

But he reacted fast.

He grabbed me, pulled me away from the large truck coming towards me. I could still hear the honking of the horns, the other voices shouting 'Watch out! Watch out!"

He threw me out to the side of the road, replacing my body with his. The impact the truck had made to his body had killed him instantly.

Tears began pouring down my cheeks before the truck had even pulled to a complete stop. I crawled out to the middle of the road, and laid myself over his body. I sobbed like a little kid, and the sobbing hadn't stopped until this morning.

This morning when I had gotten up, and put on my dreadfully boring black dress.

The priest was done speaking, and words of family and friends started. All of them agreed on one thing, he died a hero.

And only one thing was going through my mind the whole time.

He died a hero, he died for me.

I couldn't get my head around that thought. If I hadn't been so stupid, so irrational, so caught up in my own world, he'd still be alive.

The funeral service was cut short, the way he would have wanted it. It wasn't long before people began their own personal good-byes to him. Many people came up to me, told me that I was lucky, and that I shouldn't mourn him to much, that I shouldn't think that it was all my fault.

But how was I not supposed to think it was my fault?

What made everyone think that I could just forget that I had been the one he died saving?

What made them assume that it hadn't been my fault?

People began to shuffle out of the funeral home, all saddened by the days events. Hugs were given, and well as words of sympathy. But really, they didn't mean much. Sure, they were all coming from the bottom of people's hearts, and they really _were_ sorry, but that didn't bring him back, did it?

Miranda came up to me, giving me a great big hug. She didn't say anything, didn't offer any condolences, because she knew that there was nothing she could say that would make me feel better.

People would say that he was in a better place now, and although that may be true, it didn't help the pain, either.

I couldn't remember the last time that I had told him I loved him. I wished that every time I had seen him I would have just ran up to him, threw my hands around his neck, and tell him that I loved him.

He may have died knowing it, but he hadn't heard it very much. It made me wonder why people worry so much what everyone thinks of them, me included. Why did people worry about it? Why didn't people go around giving hugs, saying 'I love you's' all the time?

The answer was simply, really. Because no one ever expected people that they saw every day of their life, to die. No one woke up in the morning thinking 'Hmm, they might die today, I should tell them I love them'. Everyone just took life for granted, expected that everyone would always be there.

But everyone wouldn't always be there.

And this was the first time in my life I had ever realized that. By this age, most people have been to a funeral of someone close, I guess I always lucked out. But now, the dead reality hit me. And all the quotes that you always hear, the ones that tell you to live life to the fullest, never take love for granted, never frown because every minute you frown, you lose 60 seconds of happiness, all those quotes, always taken for granted.

You hear of bad things happening everyday, but not once does it ever enter your mind that it could happen to you. Always thinking, 'oh that's never going to happen to me', but when it does happen, it his home hard.

I looked down at my hands, as I stood in line waiting for my turn to say good-bye. They were shaking, and the rest of me was trembling. I was expecting the sobs to erupt from my mouth any time now. But for some reason, they didn't. I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself, but it didn't help. It made my throat feel as though it had constricted, and I could no longer breathe.

Which really, I shouldn't be breathing right now. He should. But it was ironic, that it was the other way around. I nodded politely as more people told me how sorry they were. I couldn't bring myself to words, so nodding was what I settled for. Occasionally, I'd whisper a very quiet thank-you, but I doubted they could even hear it.

The line was shrinking, and I was secretly dreading having to say good-bye. How could you say good-bye to someone so close to you? It wasn't possible, not in my mind anyways. All I wanted to do right now was to go home, and crawl in a little black hole and never come out.

I didn't want to see anyone ever again. No one.

I knew what I was thinking wasn't true. Because it was only a few moments ago that I had wanted to tell everyone I knew how much I loved them. But the death of someone close did funny things to a person, I guess.

Finally it was my turn. I stepped up to the casket, and looking down. There he was, just how he always looked. It was like he was simply sleeping, but I knew that wasn't the case.

It was only then, the first time all day, that I wiped away my tears. I wanted to appear strong for him, to let him now that he had done good saving me.

I didn't want to let him down.

I smiled slightly, although it wasn't a true smile. "I'm so sorry," I started off, whispering so quietly I could hardly hear myself.

"So sorry," I continued.

"You saved my life, and I'm grateful for that, I really am. I just wish you wouldn't have to have died doing it."

I paused for a second, having no clue what I was supposed to say. I couldn't say good-bye, I would let myself.

"I guess I never really told you how much you meant to me, how important you were. So, I'm not going to say good-bye, because someday, probably decades from now, I'll see you again. So this isn't good-bye, more of an 'I love you'. Because I do love you, and I didn't tell you that enough."

I paused again, trying to pull myself back together. I was a mess right now, my silent tears were back to sobs. I felt someone come up behind me, but I didn't turn to look at who it was.

Somehow, I already knew. "He wouldn't want you to be so sad because of him."

"How am I not supposed to be sad?" I questioned, very seriously.

"You have to know that he died because he loved you too, saving you was what he wanted to do. And know that he's watching over you right now, to make sure you never get hurt, and he doesn't want you crying over him anymore."

"How do you know?" I asked, starting to feel better.

"That's just the kind of person he was, Lizzie, that's just how he was."

I nodded my head, knowing that the words were very true. I kissed my fingers and put them up to his cheek. "I love you," I told him, turning to walk away.

I grabbed the other figures hand as I did. Once we were out of earshot of most others, I smiled, the first true smile since he had died.

"Thanks, Gordo," I told him, "You're right, like always, that is just how Matt was."

Gordo nodded, and I continued to hold onto his hand. "Gordo-," I started, pausing. He looked up at me, wiping the tears from my eyes. "I love you, David Gordon, I've always been in love with you."

He shot me a goofy grin, "I love you, too, Lizzie McGuire. I always have, and always will."

I smiled, and leaned in to give him a kiss. We pulled apart, both feeling a little more complete. and I hugged him tightly.

I remembered what Matt and me had been talking about before the accident. He told me that Gordo had loved me since I had gone out with Ronnie. He assured me that just as much as I loved Gordo, Gordo loved me a little bit more.

I had smiled, and told him thank you. I gave him a hug, which he returned.

I looked up at the ceiling of the church, as though I was looking into heaven. I was looking to where Matt was, up above us.

"Thank you, Matt. I'll never forget you."

I looked back at Gordo and have him another quick kiss. "Thank you for what?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Oh, just a little secret between brother and sister."

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A/N: So.. what did you think?? Let me know in a review. It's not very good, I wrote it very quickly, but oh well. I still want feedback. For those of you that read me other stories, hopefully new chapters will be up soon!!


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